in sickness and health

vaguely sorting out the details of the last few months

I’ve hinted at my health problems here, just alluded to what’s been going on over the past few months, but I never really got into the details. It’s not newsletter material, I tell myself. No one wants to her you complain. No one wants to hear the minutiae of your medical life. Yet I feel compelled to keep you posted because I’ve done a serious lack of fresh writing here.

I could tell you about the pain I’ve been in, about the sleepless nights sitting upright on the couch because it’s the only way the pain subsides. I could tell you about the agony of trying to put in a full day’s work, about the myriad doctor visits, the poking and prodding and blood tests and ultrasounds and the biopsy.

I could write about my frustration with the health care in this country, the waits for appointments to open up, the way they move you in and out of doctor’s visits and emergency room visits with a quickness that leaves you feeling like they missed something. I could tell you about feeling like my pain and discomfort were being minimized, about not being heard or believed, about having to advocate for myself.

And I could tell you all this is happening while I am mourning my beloved dog, while I am still reeling from the last three years of crises. To recap: we had the pandemic in 2020, the subsequent work lockdown, things that drove me into a deep depression and a state of anxiety. In early 2021, my husband surprised me by walking out on our 14 year relationship. In 2022 I became ill and eventually had my gallbladder taken out. My divorce was finalized. My daughter - a great source of support - moved to Los Angeles. And in early 2023 my dog MC Ren died, while I was battling this new ailment.

To say it’s been a struggle is an understatement. I’ve been floundering. Dealing with constant pain - both physical and emotional - has taken a toll on me. It’s a challenge most days to get out of the house and I’ve taken so much time off from work that I am almost out of time to use, and I’m afraid of getting in trouble for missing so much work. I spend my days on the couch clutching my inflamed liver and willing it to reduce itself just a little bit. I take calls from doctor’s assistants, I Google words and phrases that I find in my test results, I close my eyes and imagine that I’m dying. Sometimes that feels ok.

I could tell you about all of this in great detail, outlining every indignity done to me by my body, by others. I could write paragraphs on how women are treated by doctors when they are in pain. I could write treatise on how even with “good” health insurance, I’m finding it hard to navigate my way around the health system, around all those statements and bills and denials and appeals.

I could talk about how utterly, completely tired I am, just drained of every ounce of energy, and how that makes living a sort of nightmare these days. But I don’t want to drag everyone into this and I’ve said to much already.

It’s hard to write when you’re in pain, when the prevailing thought in your head is just a primal scream. But I miss writing new things and I realize doing that - writing here for you - is something that makes me feel good and normal for a little while. I just don’t want new content to be all about pain and health ailments and the loneliness of pet loss and how I miss having a partner who is willing to take “in sickness or health: seriously, who would take care of me and hug me and tell me everything’s going to be alright.

I suppose I could write about all that. But there’s so much more I could write that would be more interesting and readable than all this. So I’ll get back it, to this newsletter that has been my means of expression since my life started slowly falling apart. Writing is one of the last good things I’ve got going for me at this time.

I have another doctor appointment today. Maybe today I’ll be heard. Maybe today I start healing. Maybe tomorrow I’ll write a silly, shallow post about spring and the coming good weather. Maybe I’ll attempt to go for a walk and clear my head.

I could tell you so much more, but I won’t.

[so sick so sick of being tired, and oh so tired of being sick]